


The Rest is History

by Tedah



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Realities, Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't copy to other sites, Draco Malfoy Has Anxiety, Happy Ending, Harry steals a baby, Historian Draco Malfoy, M/M, Nazis win ww2, Potions Accident, Time Travel, Tom Riddle is a war hero, Witch Burning, harm to children (Teddy), the nice and accurate prophecies of Uric the Oddball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-01-25 11:03:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21355219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tedah/pseuds/Tedah
Summary: Teddy’s gotten lost in time after a freak potion accident on his first year at Hogwarts. History professor!Draco is tasked with the rescue, Harry insists on going too.The rescue mission quickly develops into a literal nightmare for Draco as Harry shows little regard for keeping History’s integrity.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Phineas Black/Albus Dumbledore/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2019





	The Rest is History

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gemfae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemfae/gifts).

> I’d like to thank Lim for the beta and Jay for convincing me to go through with this crackpot idea. 
> 
> Geminifaerie84 I hope you enjoy the mix of period fic and time travel. I know you said light angst and I might have gone slightly overboard in a few spots but everything’s good in the end so it’s got to count for something. There is no porn but you can trust that they get up to some kinky stuff in that house in the French Riviera.

“Potter, this is ridiculous! You can’t come with, you’re _ not _going in, at all!” Draco insisted, it was unacceptable.

“It’s _ my _godson that got lost in time, I am most certainly going and I don’t see why you of all people should tag along for the ride!” Harry was filled to the brim with fury and Draco was honestly slightly surprised nothing had exploded yet.

“Because I’m an historian, I know what I’m doing. And he is one of _ my _ students, I am responsible for what happens to him. The Unspeakables will never let you go in blind and risk mucking up the past. Do you have any idea what Edward’s presence alone could cause?”

“That’s bullshit, no one has ever used this contraption before, it’s experimental for a reason., The idea that you would in any way be more competent than literally anyone else is preposterous,” Harry argued.

“Look at you, using your big words, did Granger help you write that little speech?”

Harry ignored him outright. “Between the two of us I’m the one who actually went back in time, might I remind you, and the world didn’t explode that time either, so come, don’t come, I don’t care, I’m going in.” Having said that, he gave Draco his back with an air of finality and looked at the Unspeakable standing awkwardly next to McGonagall, waiting for a briefing.

McGonagall gave a small nod and the man cleared his throat.

“We believe the explosion sent young Edward Lupin somewhere at the start of the nineteenth century, the portal is going to create an opening into the fabric of time. Once you step out of the present you’ll find yourself in the vicinity of 1900. Using the boy’s magic as a beacon, you should be able to direct your arrival to his current location in time,” he explained.

“Should?” Draco asked. The man shrugged.

“It’s mostly theory, we haven’t tested it extensively.” Draco didn’t have time to ask more questions. Harry was already holding his wand out to activate the two wooden pillars.

“Wait, how do we—” Everything went white and loud, the last thing he saw was the Unspeakable’s shocked face before an invisible hook lodged itself in his navel and wrenched him away from the room. There were streaks of colour flashing past him and voices, too many to make out any words. He only just had the presence of mind to grab onto Harry’s arm to avoid getting separated. He focused on the feel of Teddy’s magic, letting it call to him and pull him closer until they tumbled out onto a cobbled street.

“What in Merlin’s name did you just do, Potter?” Draco hissed, glancing around to see if anyone had seen them appear and to get a feel for the environment.

“I got us started.”

“We don’t even know how to get back, you bloody idiot.” Draco could already feel his blood pressure rising.

“We’ll figure it out.”

Draco felt like pulling his hair out and screaming until his lungs gave out, but he followed Harry out of the alleyway, glancing around. Before they could make it too far into the busy streets he cast a quick transfiguration spell on their clothes to let them fit in better with the crowd. At least they were still in London from the look of it. He glanced at a newspaper, the date read “October 26, 1906”, in the vicinity of 1900 after all.

“What’s the plan, Potter?” he asked, picking up the pace to catch up to him.

“We look for Teddy, and when we find him we go from there,” Harry replied simply. Good, they had a single step plan. Draco’d let himself get stranded in 1906 with zero plan of extraction.

“Good, ok, and how do you propose we do that? Find your godson that is?” He tried to be as reasonable as possible since Harry didn’t seem to be anywhere in the vicinity of reason. Harry was moving with singular purpose through the busy streets of London, sparing almost no mind to the faceless crowd around them.

“Where are we going, Potter?” Draco asked after a few minutes.

“St James park, Teddy likes it, it’s got strong magical energy, if he’s not there we’ll think of another way to track him.” 

Draco nodded, at least he had some semblance of a plan.

Teddy wasn’t at St James park. Just ducks, and people in top hats. The thought occurred to Draco that they might have blended in alright with their robes with no need to transfigure them, certainly better than they would have in present time London anyway… For some reason he found it amusing. Harry always joked about the chronic inability of wizards to blend into muggle fashion.

“I’m glad you’re having a good time, Malfoy,” Harry snapped. Draco hurried to catch up with him at the gates, taking a seemingly random direction.

“What’s the plan now?” Draco asked, glancing at the horse drawn carriages rushing past them in the street. They did make for a picturesque view, if the situation wasn’t quite this dire he might even find himself enjoying the chance of taking a stroll through history.

“I could cast a _ Patronus _and let it find Teddy, we’d only have to follow it.”

“We’d also have to obliviate half of London,” Draco pointed out.

“But you’re terrible at it and I can’t do it on my own,” Harry concluded. Draco nodded with a hum of agreement. There was something at the edge of his mind, a thought not entirely in focus prodding at him, telling him that he was forgetting something… But as soon as he tried to focus, Harry jumped in front of an out of control carriage and pulled a man away from its trajectory. Draco very nearly had a heart attack on the spot, but before he had a chance to properly freak out about it, Harry was already standing up, dusting himself off and offering his hand to the other man, idiot Gryffindor that he was.

A crowd was already gathering, inquiring about the health and wellbeing of Lord D’Ysquith. As soon as Draco heard the name his blood chilled and he hurried to sneak Harry away before he could have the bright idea to tell his name to anyone.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done!?” Draco hissed as soon as they were a safe distance away. His hand was gripping Harry’s arm, shaking him a little, hoping that some sense might be miraculously knocked into him.

“I just saved a man’s life, Malfoy, what’s your damage?” Harry pushed him away, glancing back at the commotion with a frown.

“Yes, Potter! You saved a man’s life, in the past, where you’re not supposed to be.” Draco threw his hands up, frustration pouring out of him in waves. How could he not get it?

“It’s just a man, what difference can it make? He’ll die another day.” Harry shrugged.

“You of all people should know the difference one man makes. He is Lord Montague D’Ysquith and he was supposed to die _ today _ in a tragic carriage accident, his substantial estate made into scholarships for Exeter College. Among the beneficiaries? One bright young John Ronald Reuel Tolkien. You just prevented your favourite author from finishing his education.” 

That seemed to give Harry a moment of pause, but only a moment before his one track mind went back to his mission.

“History will figure itself out, we need to find Teddy,” he declared, making Draco want to hit him on the head very hard. History doesn’t just _ figure itself out _.

“Just promise you won’t go around saving anyone else’s life.”

“I’ll see what I can do about it.”

In the end, it was Teddy who found them. In a flash of blinding light, he tumbled out of a portal in the middle of the street. Draco was too relieved about finding his cousin in one piece to worry about obliviating muggles. The vague prodding sensation at the base of his skull was drowned out by the overwhelming relief.

“Draco!” In a second, Teddy was in his arms, solid and whole, and Draco finally felt like he could breathe as he patted him down, making sure he wasn’t injured. Draco barely had time to take a breath of relief before Teddy froze. Draco took a step back and watched, horrified as he moved slowly, as if in a trance, picking up a vial that wasn’t there, pouring it into an absent cauldron and stirring without a spoon. The explosion that ensued wasn’t imagined, though, it was very much real, just like the scream that pierced the air and the tear that opened in the fabric of time and space.

Draco didn’t have time to react before Harry tackled him through it, no second thought spared for the crowd of witnesses.

* * *

Draco took the next breath somewhere that definitely wasn’t the turn of the century London, and his arms were painfully devoid of Teddy, as his lungs filled with air saturated with sea breeze and the faint scent of lavender.

He recognized the mix immediately. He’d spent too many summers playing in the sun in the French Riviera to forget the smell of the air.

“What in Salazar’s name are we doing in Provence, Potter?” he asked, clenching his fists to get rid of the phantom sensation of Teddy’s small body against him.

“I imagine the same thing as Teddy: trying to find a way back,” Harry replied simply, dusting himself off. “Any idea what year it is?”

Draco looked around for a moment “Judging by the number of flags around, the fashion, and the republican slogans I’d say we’re in 1875.”

“Let’s split up, we’ll cover more ground. Someone must have seen Teddy arrive, he’s not very subtle.”

“Potter, you don’t speak any...” Harry had already disappeared in a small alley. “French.” Draco sighed and transfigured his clothes a little before slowly strolling towards the art district. They hadn’t even decided where to meet up or when. Harry was going to be the death of him if Draco didn’t kill him first.

“Hyperion? Hyperion!” It took Draco a moment to realize the man was talking to him. “It’s me, Phineas, don’t tell me you don’t recognize me, I haven’t changed that much! Dear Aunt Elladora would disapprove of the hair and the beard but who cares, I’m not on the tapestry anymore, so I can do whatever I want. What are you doing around these parts?”

Draco tried to rack his mind to figure out who this could be and why he was apparently familiar enough with his great-great-grandfather to call him by first name. It clicked when he mentioned not being on the tapestry. Phineas Black, disowned for supporting Muggle rights, moved to France to live out his days. Alphard Black would follow in his footsteps. But it didn’t add up; Phineas Black wasn’t due to be born for another five years, and here he was standing in front of Draco looking at least eighteen, more probably twenty.

“Ah… I...” Draco cleared his throat, trying to come up with a suitable excuse and at the same time trying to recall anything he knew about Hyperion Malfoy. “I’m tracking a rare and inexplicable magical event,” he settled on. Not quite a lie, but not the full truth either.

“Of course you would be. How can I help? It’s too good to find an old friend here, and an adventure at the same time.”

Phineas didn’t manage to be much help in the following several hours as they walked through the district, and his mere existence was giving Draco the worst headache. What had they managed to mess up to make him be born 25 years ahead of schedule? And What consequences would that have?

Phineas offered Draco and his companion his home to stay until they solved their mystery, which Draco sincerely hoped they wouldn’t need.

To make his headache worse, they ran into Harry in the art district in the company of Oscar fucking Wilde, chatting amiably. He politely introduced the Black-that-shouldn’t-be to Oscar Wilde and while the two made friends he pulled Harry aside.

“What are you doing, Potter?” He tried to keep his voice steady but there was an audible crack in the middle of the sentence and just a hint of badly concealed panic.

“Gathering resources?” Harry offered.

“In the form of celebrated author Oscar Wilde?”

Harry nodded “If anyone’s seen something unusual he’d know. That man’s a gossip if I ever saw one.”

“That man is also Oscar Wilde.” Draco couldn’t stress the point enough. “His mark on the literary history of our country is enormous, you can’t… Merlin, Potter!”

He got distracted for a moment and the three of them were already organising dinner and a small party to gather information. Draco found himself tagging along and bearing witness to Phineas’ less-than-subtle attempts at flirting with Oscar fucking Wilde.

It had been a long-time fantasy of Draco’s to meet Oscar Wilde, share a meal, and chat about his work. The real thing was turning out to be more of a nightmare. Harry kept referencing things he hadn’t written yet and Draco wanted to cry. And they weren’t any closer to finding Teddy. Or a way to go back to their own time, but that somehow had become a secondary priority since Harry was telling Wilde how much <strike>their</strike> his kid loved the Happy Prince, which he wouldn’t write for another thirteen years.

Phineas looked just about ready to murder Harry. The more delighted Wilde became with his odd tales the more murderous Phineas got and the more Draco wanted to die and be swallowed by the warm rich earth of France and become lavender.

The party was set up for the next weekend on Friday, giving them two days to send out invites and make preparations, but Teddy saved them the trouble of networking. As soon as the room filled with young intellectuals and people looking for extravagance, Teddy delivered the entertainment by showing up in the middle of the room much like last time, the portal opening almost immediately to swallow him again. Draco’s hand closed around nothing as Teddy’s hand disappeared again, bringing Draco’s heart with him. The next thing he knew was Harry’s painfully tight grip on his arm as they jumped in after Teddy, Wilde’s cheering still ringing in their ears.

* * *

The trip seemed to never end. Draco had almost touched Teddy, and if they could get him away from the portal in time maybe they could… Teddy had been right there, in reach and he was ripped away again. What if he got hurt?

“Bollocks, we missed him,” Harry cursed, kicking the pebbles on the street, if that could be called a street.

Draco quickly pulled himself together. He couldn’t afford to fall apart right now, not in the middle of the Dark Ages. Not when Teddy’d been appearing all over town, working the populace up to a frenzy about demonic intervention. Ten minutes after their arrival they’d already heard about strange lights in the woods, screams to make milk curdle, and the need to call an exorcist and build a pyre.

But then Harry stepped in and somehow made everything worse, because after a short talk, Uric the Oddball now fancied himself a Seer, and Draco didn’t have time to fix magizoology because he _ needed to get to Teddy. _ He couldn’t worry about fundamental advancement of the discipline being cancelled and setting back the fight for werewolves’ rights, he needed...

He had to get his child to safety before the witch hunt got to him. Teddy didn’t know yet how to cast cold flame and save himself from burning.

And then they were tumbling back into London somewhere at the start of World War One, still without Teddy. The image of his face twisting in pain as he disappeared in the portal was branded into Draco’s retinas, clear and horrifying every time he closed his eyes. Harry decided it would be wise to steal baby Alan Turing from an orphanage, and follow Uric’s prophecy to France. Because that was a thing now: Uric the Oddball’s prophecies, and they were all spot on. And Alan Turing was a French orphan now, apparently. 

Draco was starting to lose touch with his sanity and time was starting to lose all meaning, especially when a fifty-odd-years-old Albus Dumbledore welcomed them into the Black-Wilde household.

Nothing was in the right order.

Draco counted the years on trembling fingers, Dumbledore was too old, he was at least twenty years older than he should be, and he was in the wrong place too, cooing over a tiny Turing with his two husbands instead of in England fighting… Grindelwald.

Grindelwald.

If Dumbledore was here Grindelwald would have free reign over England. And now they’d taken away Turing as well, no one would decode Enigma.

The next time he blinked, they were in a war-torn London in 1945, except there was no chaos and destruction. There was no trace of the aftermath of the Blitz, as if it never happened, because England capitulated without a fight. Grindelwald struck an alliance with the Nazi regime, sparing citizens death and suffering.

And now there were swastikas flying over London, making Draco’s stomach turn and his knees give out.

It was all their fault, they’d changed too much, it was all wrong and he couldn’t breathe. The ground digging into his knees gave him something to focus on as the entirety of history spun out of control.

“Get up, Malfoy,” Harry shook his shoulder. “We still haven’t found Teddy.”

“What’s the point, Potter?! Can’t you see this? We’re in London, Nazi London!” His voice was breaking as he pointed to everything that was wrong around them. They failed, they couldn’t get to Teddy, and he was in pain, stuck reliving the explosion over and over again, and Draco could do nothing to stop it.

Everything broke loose when he failed again to break through the cycle, getting sucked into the portal again and popping out into another town without Teddy. What good was he if he couldn’t save his own son?

The whole magical community was abuzz with celebration, owls flying in the daytime, darkening the sky, wixen flooding the streets, just like the chronicles told about the night Harry lost his parents. The timing was right, but he couldn’t be sure, he didn’t know anything anymore. He didn’t even know whether there was a Lord Voldemort to do the killing. They had no assurance there would be a Harry to survive him.

“Malfoy, this is...” Godric’s Hollow. The statue in the middle of the small square was covered but Draco knew it, he’d seen it many times, <strike>every year when they came to visit Harry’s parents</strike>.

“Why the long face, mate? Didn’t you hear? Lord Voldemort defeated Grindelwald! we’re kicking the Nazis out!”

They pulled the sheet down to reveal young Tom Riddle holding his wand aloft in victory.

* * *

Draco woke up with a gasp, struggling to catch his breath, cold and clammy, confused and scared out of his mind as tears started falling down his cheeks.

“Draco?” Harry murmured, his voice groggy from sleep “What’s wrong? Another nightmare?”

Draco could only nod, curling up into himself as he tried to breathe through the panic. Harry pushed himself up and wrapped his arms around him, bringing Draco’s head to his chest.

“You were fucking up the entirety of history. We weren’t together and you fucked up history,” Draco managed to say through tears, “And we couldn’t find Teddy and history was all screwed up, there were Nazis in London and Dumbledore was married to Oscar Wilde.”

Harry hummed softly, running his fingers through Draco’s hair until his breathing evened out.

“You want to tell me about it?” he asked softly. Draco slowly recounted the disjointed pieces of the nightmare and Harry had to consciously restrain himself from laughing here and there. The one thing that managed to keep Harry’s mirth at bay was Draco’s clear distress about the situation.

“Having Teddy at Hogwarts is really stressing you out, isn’t it?” Harry murmured, nosing Draco’s hairline. Draco gave a small nod.

“Come with me,” Harry told him, taking his hand and pulling him out of bed. Just down the hall he cracked open the door to Teddy’s bedroom and made Draco look inside.

“Look at him, he’s safe. He survived his first term at Hogwarts and he’ll continue to do so. There will be no freak potions accident, no getting lost in time, no fucking up of history. My one experience with time travel was more than enough,” Harry promised with a small smile. Draco took a deep breath and released it in a huff, finally relaxing. “You’re doing a great job. Both at Hogwarts and at home. You’re a good father and a good teacher. It’s just your anxiety talking, trying to convince you of the opposite.”

“I know, I’m working on it,” Draco sighed, leaning into Harry’s side, watching the slow and steady rise and fall of Teddy’s chest as he slept.

“I know, and I’m proud of you.” Harry wrapped an arm around his side, dropping a kiss to his temple.

Draco gave him a small smile and then glanced at the clock.

“Hey, it’s two am,” he noticed.

Harry hummed vaguely “yeah?”

“Merry Christmas, Love,” Draco murmured.

Harry smiled “Merry Christmas,” he replied. “Do you want some hot chocolate? Teddy won’t be asleep for much longer anyway,” he chuckled, gently pulling Draco away from the door.

“Yeah, hot chocolate sounds wonderful.”

Draco sat at the kitchen table watching Harry work the stove of the home they shared, making hot chocolate for Christmas morning breakfast, and something settled deep inside Draco’s chest as the light glinted off the ring on Harry’s finger. If he hadn’t done it already, he could marry this man again. This was right.

“What is it?” Harry asked, placing a mug of steaming hot chocolate in front of him.

Draco shrugged, wrapping his hands around it, soaking up the warmth. “Just… I love you.” He gave Harry a small smile. There was so much more than a four-letter word but he still hadn’t figured out how to pull that tangled mess out of his chest and show it to Harry, so he could see and understand. When he smiled back, Draco suspected Harry knew anyway.

“I know.” Harry’s lips were warm and soft against his own, grounding him in the present, and he could breathe again as Harry rested his hand on the side of his neck, a rough thumb brushing tenderly against his jaw. “I know,” he repeated.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you see the twist coming? Did you enjoy it?  
Let me know in the comments below.
> 
> Also, despite everything, Harry consistently makes things better for gays throughout history, if we ignore the Nazi thing.


End file.
